


Food Puns and Forever

by kuriouskitten



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Adorable Harry Styles, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2019-11-15
Packaged: 2021-01-31 07:34:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21442543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kuriouskitten/pseuds/kuriouskitten
Summary: Allyse wanders around town following Harry's directions,  but has no idea what he has in store for her.
Relationships: Harry Styles/Original Female Character(s), Harry Styles/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Food Puns and Forever

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fic in over 10 years (!!!) so I like to think I've gotten better at writing. I originally wrote this as two original characters for my college creative writing course, but I enjoyed changing things to make it 1D- centric.
> 
> TRIGGER WARNING: for referenced sexual assault, though no details are mentioned. Please take care of your own well being!

The smell of freshly brewed coffee woke me, but the hard clunk of the front door closing nearly had me falling on my face. Apparently I’d fallen asleep in Harry’s leather recliner while I was drinking my hot chocolate and watching the falling snow dance in our backyard.

  
“Hazza?” I don’t know why I called out for him, knowing he’d just left the house.

  
I froze on my way out of the chair, before bolting to our bedroom and grabbing one of his golf clubs to hold like a bat. I crept back out to the recliner, back to the wall as I called Harry. Harry was on his first long business trip. I was supposed to be alone in the apartment until Saturday night, and it was only Friday afternoon.

  
He answered just before the voicemail picked up. “Good morning, my love. Did you sleep well in my chair?” His London accent rolling through me.

  
The tension drained from my body so fast that I stumbled the two steps back to the recliner to recover. “Harry, we’ve talked about you sneaking around before,” I reminded him, exaggerating my breathing to bring my blood pressure back under control. “You know to wake me instead of walking around on your giraffe legs and making a bunch of noise like that.”

  
He hummed, a wonderful low noise that he always made when he did things like cuddle something soft, pet my hair, or walk into his family home: things of great comfort. “Was it the door? I’m so sorry, beautiful. I should have been more careful. I left you a note at the recliner. I’ll make it up to you very soon, but I have to finish a few work things before I’m fully yours for the rest of the weekend. I love you.”

  
Returning his sentiment, I pocketed my phone and took a moment to continue breathing normally. Being in the house without him was uncomfortable. I’d never lived alone before. In high school, I’d lived with my parents. When they’d died, it was just my brother, Seth, and I for a few years, until a drug habit and his new “friends” came along… the same people who sexually assaulted me.

  
Then I’d moved south, and Harry had come along, spilling my coffee after a shared yoga class. Refusing to let me hide away from the world, he gently bullied me into being his friend with talk of yoga, shared lunches at work, and cookie recipes.

Soon after, he’d convinced me to enroll in college, which was something I’d been putting off. He worked his way from friend to confidante and best friend. Boyfriend came soon after, especially since he dealt so well with my sexual assault and its after effects. We moved into a shared apartment shortly after I started my sophomore year at the community college.

  
Gathering what Harry called my sunset colored curls into an elastic, I tied them into place on top of my head and started looking for this note he’d left. It turned out to be under the blanket I’d been covered with through the night.

  
But could it be any old note written on regular paper? Oh, no. Nope, because Harry was much too in love and too creative to settle for that.

So instead, he’d placed a bulging, pastel purple envelope on my lap while I was sleeping. So apparently my clumsy giraffe could be sneaky when he was determined.

  
I took it to the kitchen and opened it, edge to edge, with a knife so as not to destroy whatever was making the poor thing strain so hard. As soon as there was enough room, rose petals started falling to the floor, mirroring the snow still falling outside. I shook off my shock, emptied the rest of the rose petals onto the tile floor before I pulled the thick handwritten letter out.

  
“‘Darling Alyse, I’ve arrived home early and have some errands to run in the city before I can stay home with you. If you could just do me a few favors and get a few packages, it would help greatly. The first stop is the cafe. Always yours, H,’” I read to the quiet house, a pout forming. “So, not only did you wake me up, but you want me to do your errands for you?”

  
I sighed, but headed to the bedroom to change into public appropriate clothes anyway. There was very little I wouldn’t do for my giant Londoner, but thankfully he also doesn’t ask much of me.

  
The west side of town had a café which was literally across the street from our apartment building, though I did have to dodge through midday traffic. Luckily, there was no line to the front counter. Our favorite waitress grinned when she saw me, not saying a word as she handed me another envelope which looked like the one from earlier, except it didn’t look like it would explode, and shooed me into a booth.

  
“He left you food, too. Have I asked lately where I can get a clone?” We both chuckled as I used my pocket knife to ease the new envelope open. Chantalle hurried off when the kitchen bell chimed, but surprised me by bringing back a plate with a waffle, whipped cream, and berries on it. “I’ll settle for a robot, at this point.”

  
I squinted my eyes at her, head to toe. “What is this?” She raised an eyebrow and tried to hide a smile, but lost that fight when I threw a berry at her, which she caught and ate. “Obviously it’s breakfast, but why are you colluding with Harry to make me breakfast?”

  
“Woman, I didn’t ‘collude’ nothin’. He came in early this mornin’, like way early, and asked a favor. I happen to like y’all, so I decided to do as he asked.”

  
Waving my new note around while I chewed my first delicious mouthful of waffles, I narrowed my eyes again before reading my note. “Like us ‘a bit,’ my ass. You fawn over us. We’re your favorites.”

  
It was actually a commercially printed card, not handwritten, with a big, cartoon waffle on the front; the little guy looked like he was dancing and held a heart. I opened it to find a bowl of berries looking ecstatic, surrounded with the words ‘I missed you a waffle lot and love you so berry much!’

  
My stomach flip-flopped even as the card was yanked from my grasp.

  
“Oh, my god. If I knew I was participating in something so. . . mushy, I may have cried,” she exclaimed, but she set it on the table and hurried back to the front counter to attend to more customers before I could swallow again.

  
By the time I finished the food Harry organized for me, she’d told me to go to the coffee shop a few blocks down, so I slung my purse back over my head and headed out, leaving a tip under my empty plate despite her stubborn refusals.

  
The walk down the city sidewalk was filled with people hurrying every which way, something that I’ve been uncomfortable with ever since my sexual assault. While it’d been seven years in June, being around so many strangers-- especially men-- always put me on edge and sent my anxiety sky high; walking around alone amongst a bunch of strangers. . . it tripled those feelings.

  
Clutching my purse to my torso, I kept my head down and followed those around me to the corner where we waited for traffic to stop.

  
“You have such pretty hair.” The slurred voice came from behind me, but the touch against my hair and the offensive smell emanating from over my shoulder was what forced me to spin around and back away from the man. “I love red hair.”

  
“Please, don’t touch me.” Shakier than I would have liked them to be, my words just seemed to spur him on, and he followed me that step, bringing my attention to his skin and clothing, which were covered in. . . things I stopped trying to identify.

  
He laughed and reached for me again, showing teeth as dirty as his coat and alcohol on his breath. “Missy, I could be real good to you,” he slurred and kept coming towards me, “better than you’ll ever get.”

  
My next step backwards had me colliding with someone, and when I turned around, that someone turned out to be one of Harry’s friends who had just graduated from the police academy.

  
“Allyse? Hey, are you okay? You’re shaking, babe.”  
Already nodding, I moved away from him as he approached the harassing homeless man, already asking questions. “He was-- he. . . and I just- just need to go.”

  
I felt like there was cotton in my ears. I could hear things, but I didn't understand them, and the wind wasn’t helping to distinguish those sounds. I nearly jogged the last two blocks to the coffee shop. There were only a few customers in line, and waiting gave me a chance to calm myself, reassociate with everything.

  
“Hey, Allyse, good to see you,” Marcus nearly shouted over the machines.

  
It spoke to our habits that all of these people knew us by name, and the thought made me smile.

  
“It’s good to see you, too. I suppose Harry was in here earlier with a request for your help?” Marcus had one of those grins that took over his face and made his eyes squint so all you could see what his brilliantly white teeth. “Of course he did. Is there a card to go with my favorite latte, or maybe a message?”

  
His face lit up in alarm. “Oh, right, absolutely! I put it under the counter for safekeeping, and now I nearly forgot about it. Fantastic job.” He handed me another purple envelope just as more people came in the door. “I want to know what this is all about, Allyse.”

  
I laughed. “You and me both, Marcus.”

  
I pulled the envelope open as I walked out the door. As with the last cards, there was a cartoon on the front, a steaming latte with a heart design this time, surrounded by his message ‘I love you a latte!'

  
“Dearest Allyse, I know you don’t believe in love at first sight. And before I literally ran you over, I didn't either. Call it divine intervention, fate, whatever. There was an explosion in my chest when we met, and I knew you and I were a perfect match. Go out to our favorite spot on the beach. I’m waiting for you, H.”

  
And so I flagged down a passing taxi, and we were on our way to Crystal Beach.

  
It took the cabbie just under half an hour to maneuver through rush hour traffic, and I thanked him thoroughly when we arrived at the beach unscathed. I took the sidewalk to get to Harry’s chosen location, instead of walking directly to him through the sand; sand took forever to get out of tennis shoes.

  
He had a blanket spread out, a few lanterns ready for the darkness to set in after sunset, and a basket, probably full of food. I could have seen his smile from a hundred yards away, but I wasn’t quite that far anymore.

  
When I made it to the blanket, I took off my purse, dropped it, and continued walking straight into his arms. Only then did the lingering tension from earlier give way. Burying my nose in his neck was bliss; I loved his cologne and body wash combination.  
“Hello, beautiful.” The words got lost in my hair. “Have a good day?”

  
Pulling back just enough to make eye contact, I leveled a small glare at him. “I was sent on someone else’s ‘errands,’ got touched by a creepy homeless guy, and found out there were no ‘errands,’ just a treasure hunt to keep me running around. What gives?”

  
His face flushed and his smile turned sheepish. “I wanted to have a nice date night when I got back.”

  
I pinched his side, triumphant when he squeaked and jerked away. “You could have done so without sending me out of the house.”

  
“I thought we could have dinner by the water tonight.”  
We lay there for quite a while, feeding each other the café food he’d brought with him. When we were both full, though, he rolled over to look at me before getting to his feet.

  
“Come on,” he said. “Come put your feet in the water with me.”

  
I groaned in complaint, but he worked off my shoes, rolled up the legs of my jeans, and pulled me to my feet anyway. “Fine, manhandle me. See where that gets you,” I grumbled, my eyes watering as they adjusted to the faint pink and orange light of the sun going down. There was barely a sliver of it above the water, but it was enough to make my eyes tear up in protest.

  
“I love you, you know,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around my waist. We stood chest to chest looking out over the water.

  
I blushed and smiled, nodding my head slowly. “Yeah, I know.”

  
He gasped in mock shock and dug a finger into my ribs, making me squeal loudly. “You’re s'posed to say it back.”

  
I looked up at him, my chin resting just below his collarbone. “Oh really? Because the one thing you didn’t give me today was a script.” When he glared at me, I giggled and brushed a light kiss over his expectant lips. “Yes, I love you, too, Harry Edward Styles.”

  
“I love you so much. I’ve known my future from the moment you finally agreed to that first date. I never imagined you’d be able to put up with my friends or family the way you do, but. . . you fit right in.” I watched as he fumbled in his pocket.

  
And suddenly I couldn’t breathe as he pulled out a black velvet jewelry box.

  
“Oh, my god, Harry.” I covered my face, feeling so stupid. In hindsight, I could see exactly where this day was going. I felt like I was seconds from falling to the ground.

  
“Yes, Allyse. I’d like to marry you. To be tied to you forever. I’d go so far as to say I’d love to carry your children, but since that’s not possible, I could settle for fathering them.” He took a deep steadying breath. “I know we’ve talked about marriage before. I know you’re mostly opposed based on a previous relationship and your past. But sweetheart, you and Sean were completely different than you and I, and you’re so much more mature and healthy now.”

  
He definitely had a point. That relationship with Sean was only two years after the assault, and was not healthy at all.

  
“How do I know this isn’t going to change anything, Harry? How do I know I’ll be able to finish my degree or keep my independence?”

  
I could tell the words hurt him by the way his shoulders hunched a bit, but he straightened up again, clasping our hands together with a light squeeze. “If you don’t know by now that I’d never do anything to hurt you, then I don’t know how else to show you.”

  
Wasn’t that a kick in the ass?

  
“I’m sorry, that was a terrible thing to say,” I whispered. I inhaled deeply before stepping off what I hoped would be the best metaphorical cliff of my life. “Yes, we can get married. So long as there is none of that obeisance nonsense in our vows.”

  
He whooped and swung us in a few ecstatic circles before setting me back on my feet to place the ring on my finger. “Will you look at it now? The poor ring is suffering from your lack of attention!” he joked, holding my hand up so the last of the sunlight glinted off the diamond in the middle. Surrounding the square cut, clear stone were smaller emeralds, which were square cut as well.

  
Tears at last fell down my cheeks, as I laid my forehead against his shoulder. I felt the breath he exhaled; it trembled, just as my body did as he held me tight.

  
“Are you o-fish-ially mine, then?”

  
“You and your puns, I swear.” I reached up and wiped my tears away and laughed. “No, but you can be o-fish-ially mine, if you’d like.”

  
He shrugged and pulled out his phone. His social media announcement stated “O-fish-ially forever!”

**Author's Note:**

> What did you think? Did I do H justice? If not, I'd love your thoughts on the differences!  
💜


End file.
